Withdrawn
by Mockingjaybird
Summary: Neville hadn't eaten food in days. All thanks to the Carrows and their plan to make him an example. Written for the Heroes' Hunt Competition. Waring: Dark, mentions of torture.


**AN: Written for Aldira's Heroes' Hunt Competition. My prompt was 'write about food being withdrawn from someone'. Warning: Dark, mentions of torture. I do not own Harry Potter.**

...

Neville hadn't eaten in days. He had been locked up in one of the Carrow siblings' "torture rooms," they had called it, an unused classroom down in the dungeons. His offense? Rescuing his fellow classmates from their clutches. It was stupid he thought, that the Carrows could get away with almost anything but death, now that Dumbledore was out of the picture.

They had gotten him just upon finishing a rescue for a couple of Fourth-year Gryffindors, right when the last binding was cut and he and the others were about to escape. They Crucioed him from behind, let all the others run away when they realized they were no match for the Carrows. Neville remembered a searing pain course through his back and into his nerves, and screaming. He most definitely remembered screaming.

They dragged him down to the dungeons, parading their victory through the corridors during a passing period. Both students and professors alike stared at him in horror and shock: Neville had finally been captured after months of his rescue operations. Everyone knew that he would return barely breathing.

The first thing they did when they got there was searched him. They took away his wand, and when they found no other means of rebellion, they tied him up in shackles by his wrists against the grimy wall. Amycus kicked him in the stomach after Neville mumbled a string of swears their way, and took away his privileges of food for a day. And then they left him for the rest of the afternoon.

The next day was excruciating. They tortured him with more Curses, and punched and kicked their way for more answers. Neville would give them nothing, his face already half caked in blood by the time the first Potions class began. They took away his food again, his stomach already making audible sounds.

At night, he could hear whispers and footsteps and dueling right outside his guarded cell's door, Neville knowing that those were rescue teams trying to rescue _him.___And it broke his heart because he knew they would never succeed-the Carrows had stationed Slytherin guards in threes and fours outside the door. When someone started screaming bloody murder on the third night, after a Slytherin had thrown a Unforgivable Curse during a duel, Neville wept. He was in agony and starving.

The fifth day he was there, right at the crack of dawn and still without food, the siblings entered the room with a sly expression on their faces. "Wake up," Alecto ordered, sending a few kicks his way. Neville stared at them through a half lidded eye; his right one was already swollen shut. He allowed them to take the shackles off and guide him upstairs without saying a word, his body throbbing in pain. Maybe they were going to dump him somewhere and be done with him. He had seen it happen before.

Neville's empty stomach lurched when they turned right toward the Great Hall, not quite filling up this early in the morning. They marched him up to the dais and pushed him down onto his knees, although it didn't take much force. They tied his hands behind him, his shins digging into the scratched wood, and out of the corner of his good eye, saw Alecto raise her wand. He thought it would be another spell his way, but instead, it was an announcement.

"All students must come down to the Great Hall this morning. Disobedience will result in punishment."

Tears sprang to the corner of Neville's eyes. They were going to force everyone to look at their handiwork and make an example of him. It didn't take more than twenty minutes for the entire Great Hall to fill up. He could see the levels of pity and horror on everyone's faces, including the Slytherins and he tried to keep his composure.

He was sure he looked like a mess: his clothes were ripped and stinking, an eye was black and blue, and dried blood stuck to his body, not to mention the countless bruises his ribs and back held. His stomach growled fiercely. Not one person said a word as Alecto raised her voice.

"This is a warning for all. Anyone caught rebelling or leading rescue parties will be subject to severe punishment, as Mister Longbottom here, has been. This is what you get when you are bad."

From out of nowhere, Amycus walked up beside him and waved a fresh roll of bread under his nose. The sweet smell was not inviting as it would have been days ago. He finally broke. Neville hunched over, sobbing and heaving in front of everyone.

The siblings, satisfied in their work, then walked right of the dais and down the main aisle, leaving Neville and the other students there. No one made a move. No one made a sound. No one went to help him.

Neville crumbled on the dais, the piece of bread laying right where Amycus dropped it in his departure, inches from Neville's mouth.

...


End file.
